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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438561">Zechs Merquise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune'>merryfortune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BNA: Brand New Animal (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Blood Play, Brainwashing, Cults, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, Furry, Grooming, Knifeplay, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Praise Kink, Pre-Canon, Religious Abuse, Tentacles, Transformation fetish, Willing Victim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:22:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The time for Nazuna's purification ritual was upon them both.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boris Cliff/Hiwatashi Nazuna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Zechs Merquise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>  All around them, candles were lit. The lilac-blue flames flickered ominously in the dark. Crystal spires clustered on the ground in artful and arcane arrangements, reflecting their faces devoid of any emotion. They were calm. Too calm. Nazuna was led to the centre of this tent whereupon she would be transformed. She would be made an idol. A goddess. A girl to be adored and all powerful. The moon was full, and so was her ego.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna elegantly sat down on the altar. She swung her legs, long and slender and most important of all, human, over towards the flat of it and made herself comfortable on the platinum coloured slab of stone. Her slip of a white dress fluttered as she moved. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris watched her unfeelingly. She was still impure, still a fox where she would be a wolf. He would make her silver by any means possible. She had to be cleansed and Boris would be honoured to do that. To make her holy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Are you ready?” Boris asked. His voice was stalwart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Born ready.” Nazuna replied, grinning. Her sharp teeth catching, glinting, on little but bright light that there was in this place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris was pleased by this answer. The girl that he saw before him, so ready to be his, to be the unsuspecting world’s, was so eager. It was precious. She was of stardust and immortality, he just had to assure that such mortality was purged of her. The human became a fox. The fox would become a wolf. The wolf would become a godlike saviour. It would be perfect, she would be perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   To and fro, Boris swung a pendulum arc of incense from his smoking bell. The chimes were haunting. Eerie. Echoing. Over and over until both were lost in the ringing of silver tongues. The scent of incense wafted through the air, drifting out in arcs and clouds of coloured smoke. The aroma was acrid, even awful, of charcoal and sandalwood but something else too; marijuana. It was a special blend by Boris, he found that such scents relaxed the mind and allowed it a fuller scope of exactly what it was capable of. It was well known that brain, animal, human, both, neither, only ever used a fraction, a sliver, of that full potential and Boris was determined to inch ever closer to that intellectual wholeness no matter the cost. Though, hypocritically, he did wear a mask which filtered at least part of it...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna breathed it in. She watched the smoke dance and swirl around her. She thought it was beautiful as she got a little bit high. Blissfully unaware of exactly in that little metal case that Boris wielded like a morning star.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “How are you feeling, Déesse Louve?” Boris asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna giggled. She loved that name. Déesse Louve. That was a bright and evocative name, on the edge of the grandest things there were to humanity: life and death. It was artful, too. The shy and indecisive Nazuna was dying tonight. The one kept in a boring little cube of normalcy, protected, imprisoned really, by her selfish little friend. She was going to become Déesse Louve. It was exciting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Wonderful.” Nazuna chirruped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I am delighted to hear that, my lady.” Boris told her and there was a twitch of perverse glee on his lips in his reply. “Did you know, Déesse Louve? That virginity is the most powerful force in rituals? Its potency is beyond compare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Virginity as in sex?” Nazuna asked. Like a child. Like the child she was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  “Yes, but also as in virginal blood.” Boris told her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Huh… I’ve never heard of virginal blood before…” Nazuna murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Blood is the culmination of vitality of all creatures. Yours, my lady, is exquisite, I have no doubt.” Boris said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You flatter me, Boris.” Nazuna pouted. “Please, transform me, take every ounce of my blood, fuck me, I want it. I want to become Déesse Louve, I want to become Ginrou incarnate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris’ heart pounded. “I would be honoured.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  He placed the smoking bell of hemp and sandalwood at the foot of Nazuna’s altar. His movements were sluggish, but everything was in slow motion. Every flicker of fire, every spiral of smoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris got down on one knee, his left knee, and took Nazuna’s hand. It was small and soft. He kissed the inner of her wrist, his tongue slipped through his lips and he probed her for her pulse. He suckled at the warmest point where it throbbed the hardest. Nazuna thought he was sublimely gentle. He thought himself supremely hungry but he remained restrained and drew back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He ended his genuflect. His knee ached. He was so old. Centuries old. And all that hallowed time had finally found his Déesse Louve. Or at least the vessel to become his Déesse Louve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris, in turn, elegantly took himself upon the altar as well. His garments rustling. Fluttering. His feet, her feet, interlocking and almost artful, framed the ever smoking bell of incense. Even though it had stopped ringing, it’s chime continued to echo through the tent. In their heads, their minds, bouncing off the crystals and the floor, intermingling with the smoke. Beautiful and clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I trust that you will be brave, Déesse Louve. To become the martyr and saviour of all Beastmen, it requires suffering.” Boris lamented guiltlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I trust you completely, Boris.” Nazuna replied, sing-song. “I love you. I want to be loved by you. By all my adoring fans and subjects, too. But mostly by you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   It felt divine to be told such uniquely sweet things. She had been difficult to acquire as there were other forces at play, most of them accidental but what was fate if not a series of accidents but her acquisition into his loving hands was extraordinary. It was destiny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Using them, touching her, praising her, stroking her, she had been difficult at first, reluctant and suspicious but Boris enlightened her eventually. They would all be enlightened eventually. Through beautiful patience, he earned her love and he revealed to her the unknown nature in her. Humans were so stupid. Stupid and dirty. But not her for she would be the Ginrou that he wished to serve once he groomed her pink hair white and more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   But Ginrou above, all Boris wanted was this girl to himself. He wanted to secret her away, hide her in some precious, jewel encrusted box but so long as his filthy hands could touch her and his dryly repugnant eyes could see her, Boris knew that he could whet his desires. After all, what difference was there between a box and an altar? This tent and all it’s crystals… To go against his justice and to evilly indulge himself would be sacrilege. It was his holy mission to share her light, like the silver full moon, with the world and bring salvation. Completely regardless of if the world wanted it or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You do not have permission to transform yet, my dear.” Boris warned her as he slowly drew forth a dagger from within his cloak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna giggled again. Impish and playful. “I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “What a good girl…” Boris mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna grinned, big and wide. Her eyes were a little red, a little unfocused. She was stoned but she thought herself only high on Boris’ praise. It felt so good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   It felt so good to even be cut up by him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He had a careful and steady hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The dagger itself was artful. Intricate and gorgeous. Designed to look akin to a wolf, right down to gleaming eyes only made of a watery yellow topaz, the blade itself made in silver and gold. It looked perfect in Boris’s hands; a natural extension of himself and his own blood lust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna didn’t do so much as flinch and Boris carved the same design across his face as his mask onto her body. He had placed it between her breasts, small and somewhat removed from each other, even when she was laid out flat. She was adorable in how tiny she was. Her body was expertly sliced open, the blade’s edge twirling in the grooves of her meat, or what there was of it. She was so tiny. So skinny. All bones, essentially but she bled so much regardless. Too much even. The droplets rolled down, over her rib cage and down her sides so Boris leaned in closer. With his unworthy tongue, he licked her clean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Her pounding heart was sacred. The taste of her blood burned his mouth with its warmth and purity. Her taste was delicious. She moaned beneath him as he licked at her and then, once the bleeding had stopped, he began once more - but with a harder aspect thanks to how his arousal had turned him. She could feel it. Pressing up against her as he got in, nice and close, to slice her up and decorate her with all the iconography which would purify her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The rivulets of blood continued to drip down the curvature of Nazuna’s body. The taste of it lingered on Boris’s tongue as he allowed his mind to wander, with the smoke in the tent, kissing Nazuna’s neck and shoulders as he kept the knife equally close to both their breasts. He trusted his mind’s eye to get the finer details of the insignia right. But oh, how he adored how it felt to be so close to his darling Déesse Louve and to turn the handle of that ornate knife into a conduit for his own heartbeat for her to feel. The reverberations edging along every decorative inch of his beloved knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   At this point, he knew his artwork upon Nazuna’s breast to be finished. He just wanted her to feel pain in this blessed crucible of his own making. Nazuna whimpered and squirmed as he kissed at her. As he knifed at her. As he grinded upon her with the fear of God behind him. He held his breath as he drew back. Nazuna whimpered some more, disliking how Boris retreated from her. No matter how loving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Please,” she murmured, her eyes pleading, the glimmer in the irises were made of garnets and rubies, “please, Boris, I want to be consecrated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spoken like a true goddess, Boris thought as he looked down upon her. Weak and simpering and utterly beautiful. Her hair tousled about. Her eyes watering. Her little cupid’s bow mouth upturned. He put aside the knife and he looked down at his artwork.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   She was in the spread eagle position beneath him. All but crucified; only missing the garish and brutal nails to keep her in place. Between her breasts - somewhat small, nipples like unbudded peaches - was the insignia of his religion’s movement. The winged wolf as depicted in hard, brutalistic lines. He had done it perfectly and its etching upon Nazuna’s body was thin-lined and exquisite in precise detail. Boris could not be more proud of his own handiwork as he admired it. Admired Nazuna.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna nuzzled into the palm of his aged hand. A slight smile twitched upon Boris’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You are ready, my dear.” Boris said. “You are sublime. You will be Déesse Louve: saviour of all Beastkind. I give you permission to transform now.” He licked his lips. And Nazuna glimpsed the fork in his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Her heart swelled with ecstasy. The transformation which followed was instantaneous. And it was almost sad. Fur grew from her breast, hiding the cuts and wounds which made such a wondrous artwork upon her chest. That slight smile of Boris’s expanded. Hands became paws; a tail grew. It happened within a second but his keen eyes, slitted and eager, caught every bit of it in adoration of his Déesse Louve. A fox she would be no more so long as he gave her the rites that only she was capable of as an accidental experiment between species.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You are beautiful, Déesse Louve.” Boris complimented her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I love you too, Boris.” Nazuna replied. Her eyes were so big and wide and innocent, embedded into the face of a fox with a long snout poking forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris was thankful that his expression was behind a mask right now. Rigid and unyielding but acceptable. Stern. Distance. Because he knew that the muscles in his face twitched with wicked excitement. He was beyond mad with what Nazuna had told him. What she meant to him; symbolically, metaphorically, fantastically, as nothing even close to humanised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   His cock ached and his own animal instinct became unbound at Nazuna’s due virtue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Do not be afraid, Déesse Louve,” Boris whispered to her, all but slobbering, his voice shaking with excitement, “for this is just what angels look like.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Eldritch, in a word. Jumbled and un-humanlike and somewhat animalistic. Boris had to keep himself contained but he was in shambles as he tried not to let go of himself too much but she was all his. He couldn’t help but to vibrate with this perverse, unbidden excitement as he tried, as elegantly as he could, to unzip and cast aside anything which would get in the way of his desires. Both big and small. Grand and miniscule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “There is no union purer than that of man and woman…” Boris whispered as he pushed aside that lewdly innocent slip of a white dress, translucent and teasing, which he paraded Nazuna in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna laughed. She adored that edge of lust, so pathetically restrained, which made up the intonations of Boris’ holy voice. She was not afraid, do not worry. Even as Boris transformed in half measures. From beneath his grey robes, snakes - yes, plural - extended forth and Nazuna laughed some more. Stretches of his skin turned to scales as something monstrous came forth - and not just his cock, ugly, thick, and aroused. It all meant so much and so little simultaneously to little Déesse Louve who wanted to be purified. To be penetrated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Those snakeheads wrapped around her limbs. Strong as rope and twice as possessive as Boris held down her hips. The snakes that he manifested continued to weave around Nauzna’s body. Becoming the most beautiful bondage as he held her down. She writhed as they wound around her, coming under his possession with sharp glee in their otherwise unemotional, yellow eyes. Nazuna, with her heart beating fast, found herself enjoying it. She willed herself to enjoy it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris ravaged at her cunt as best as he could. His cock entered her so easily. She wanted it so much and so did he but he had his duties as full of mystique and contradiction and personal gain as they were. Trying to balance his burdensome frenzy with his equally burdensome duty to purify her as much as defile her. The waters of his semen would baptise her. The white would paint her pure and the silver wolf would be once more with the virginity broken in blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nazuna moaned and howled like a bloody vixen and it was an oestrus melody to Boris’s ears. He could feel the thickness of his own blood in his veins as he made his vile love to her. His cock slipped so easily into her cunt and it was magical to them both. Boris grunted as he pushed himself against her, hip to hip and against the marble of the altar that they both laid upon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The snakeheads twisted around Nazuna’s body, keeping her in perfect bondage, all but nailed down and crucified, and they licked tiny licks and kisses upon her. Through the thickness of her fur. The tightness made her head feel dizzy but she liked it. She liked it a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   It was difficult to determine whether Boris had been at her for hours or mere minutes. It was such a beautiful bliss either way. And his climax came either way and beneath him, Nazuna could tell. She could see it in the pearlescent sheen of his fangs and in the way his jaw dropped as this gobsmack of pleasure came across him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Please,” she begged him, “fill me with your come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “With pleasure, my Déesse Louve. Anything for you, my Déesse Louve. I am but your humble servant. For your pleasure, I would do anything.” Boris lashed her with sincere and dulcet praise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The feelings in her chest, beneath the painful cuts which made it ache and loathsome to breath, were effervescent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris thrust deeper inside of Nazuna. As deep as he could go and he held her as tightly as he could without causing her to break but he knew that Nazuna could handle it. Her voice rang through his head and he closed his eyes. He could see it. He Could See His God and His God Was All Bedecked In The White of His Semen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He came. His moan was strangulated in his own throat as he held onto Nazuna and pumped her full of himself. Nazuna moaned and mewled daintily beneath him. Boris did not watch. He kept his chin up as he all but awaited a divine revelation to say that his deed was good and not just done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Oh, oh, Boris…” Nazuna murmured beneath him as she was gorged on his tragic orgasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Boris slowly tilted his head back down. His masked looked so angular and unemotional, even when his jaw was slack with his orgasm and he looked at his darling Déesse Louve. She was truly no longer a mere human nor a mere fox. Her fur was all dyed white now. She looked divine. Stellar and celestial.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Déesse Louve…” he murmured. “You have been purified. And now, you will purify the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The snout of the fox had become the snout of the wolf and the snout of the world smiled blithely. “I will do my best.” Nazuna told him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Good girl…” Boris murmured and he slowly let go of his most brilliant creation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The gorgonic snakes that he was endowed with slowly unwound from her. She was all askew in her teeny tiny dress and Boris retreated off the altar. His cock limp between his fully human legs, clad haphazard in his clothes as a clergyman. With pride in his heart. Boris allowed Nazuna to bask in the glory of her new transformation. Drawing her own body off the altar so she could admire what had been done to her unique body now unvirginal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I am. Déesse Louve.” She sounded breathless with awe and wonder. The marvel in her eyes was palpable and naive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You are.” Boris confirmed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>explanation for the title since I realise its bit of a misnomer/oblique: Boris is apparently a reference to a Mobile Suit Gundam Wing character named Zechs Merquise but I'm using his name more as a corruption of "Sex Marquise" with Marquise being relevant since its secondary meaning relates to jewellery which I thought was apt.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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